


hate/love myself

by 249b_east_35th



Series: attempting like 30% of Kinktober 2019 [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Homophobia, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Slurs, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 07:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20862431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/249b_east_35th/pseuds/249b_east_35th
Summary: Kinktober Day 2: Hate Fucking





	hate/love myself

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first foray into writing for Glee (that I'm posting, anyway)
> 
> a.k.a. who forgot about kinktober until two seconds ago and banged this out in like half an hour
> 
> Karofsky and Kurt are both eighteen here, but still in high school so if that’s a concern please turn back now.
> 
> Title song is Kevvy's Loser.

Everyone has a breaking point.

Dave just didn’t realise this one would come so soon.

He could see it, the terror and pain turning to fury, but he still isn’t ready for it when Hummel snaps and fucking decks him.

It’s not even that hard, but it leaves Dave stunned. He can taste blood where his teeth have cut into the inside of the lip. He’d been expecting a bitch slap, if anything, and getting a fist to the mouth was a surprise.

Hummel is breathing hard, hands clenched like he wants to have another pop. Dave’s almost tempted to let him. He hasn’t had a proper fight in ages, and even beating up on Hummel was getting a little old. But this, the kid practically snarling like a pissed off cat… this is _interesting_.

Dave licks blood off his teeth and readjusts his grip on Hummel’s stupid, girly shirt. “You want to do that again?”

“I’d love to,” he spits.

Before Dave can stop himself he’s pressing Hummel against the lockers, kissing him hard. There’s a shocked squeak and then a hand at Dave’s collar, not shoving him away but pulling him closer, and Hummel—_Kurt _is kissing back, all tongue and sharp teeth, biting Dave’s mouth. It’s messy and painful and exactly what he needed.

Kurt’s breath is rapid and hot against Dave’s cheek. His lips are sticky, and taste like vanilla; Dave’s kissed enough girls to know what lip gloss feels like when it smears across his mouth.

Kurt’s more aggressive than any of the girls he’s kissed.

Kurt’s thigh shoves between Dave’s legs. He’s been halfway hard ever since he’d first pinned Kurt to the lockers, and he rocks against the pressure. Kurt’s fingers twist in Dave’s short hair and yank his head back to nip at Dave’s throat, sucking and biting at his skin.

Dave’s not sure when Kurt took control, but even though he’s not the one with his back to a wall, he’s helpless, unable to do anything more than grind against Kurt’s thigh as he’s thoroughly worked over.

“I knew it,” Kurt mumbles against Dave’s throat. “Knew you wanted this.”

“Shut up,” Dave bites out. “I’m not a fag.”

“Sure you’re not.” Kurt pulls away from Dave’s neck, his gaze hot and challenging as his hand slips between them to cup Dave’s erection through his clothes.

Dave groans, presses his face into the curve of Kurt’s shoulder. He even smells like a chick, for fuck’s sake. Kurt rubs harder, bordering on painful, then squeezes. Dave clutches at Kurt, crumpling the fabric of his shirt, and comes in his pants.

The high from his orgasm doesn’t last, leaving behind a sinking, sick feeling deep in the pit of Dave’s stomach. He lets go of Kurt, shoving him back against the locker.

“I thought that would take longer.” Kurt’s eying him up with clear disdain. He straightens out his shirt and smooths his hair back into place.

“If you tell anyone—”

Kurt’s eyes are narrowed, calculating. “What are you going to do to stop me?”

Before, Dave would have punched him. “What do you want?”

Kurt smirks at him, licks blood off his lower lip, and tells Dave exactly what he wants.

…

Dave’s reflection stares back at him in between the graffitied dicks and curses scrawled on the mirror. He looks pale, dark shadows smudged under his eyes. He’d barely slept after what had happened the day before. The morning had been filled with crushing panic and nausea, certainty that he would get to school and everyone would _know_.

Hummel had promised not to tell in return for… Dave doesn’t even know. Sex? Some kind of power trip? Dave doesn’t have trouble believing Hummel got off on having a jock coming in his pants because of him.

He seemed to have kept his promise, because no one’s said anything yet, but now there’s a whole new reason to freak out. Dave’s throat is covered in red marks—Hummel’s given him _hickeys_. They’re bad, too; Dave can still see teeth marks in some of them.

“You should cover those.”

In the mirror, Dave sees Kurt standing behind him. “What are you doing here? Girl’s bathroom is down the hall.”

Kurt sighs. “Want some help?”

Dave shrugs.

Kurt approaches him with none of the hesitation Dave’s used to seeing. He’s almost as tall as Dave, nearly enough to look him in the eyes. Dave only notices because Kurt’s not cowering against a wall this time.

He watches as Kurt digs through his bag, pulling out an assortment of tubes and bottles. Of course he carries around more girly shit than half the Cheerios put together.

“Let me see.” Kurt touches Dave’s throat, tracing the outline of his own bite marks.

They’re both silent as Dave lets Kurt cover the hickeys with makeup, shivering at the cool touch of his fingertips. It takes a while, long enough that Kurt’s touch is starting to make Dave feel like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Do you think I want people knowing that I made out with you?” There’s an almost cruel smile playing on his lips. Kurt brushes his fingers over Dave’s throat. “Done.”

“It’s not like I’d tell anyone it was you.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Because you don’t want everyone hearing about your little premature ejaculation problem.”

Dave grabs Kurt’s wrist, squeezing hard enough that he feels bones shift under his fingers. There’s a flicker of fear in Kurt’s wide eyes. Good.

“Fuck off, Hummel.”

“Can I have my hand back, please?” Kurt says tightly.

Dave lets him go after a second.

“You’re going to have to stop doing that if you want this to stay between us.” Kurt slips one hand around the back of Dave’s neck, leaning up to softly kiss then _bite _his lower lip. It lasts barely a second before he pulls away and leaves.

Dave’s lips are tingling.

He groans and locks himself in a cubicle before shoving his hand down his pants.

…

Hummel is wearing skin tight jeans again. Dave is certain that they’re intended as his own personal torment. Watching Hummel walk, with that stupid, girly swing to his hips, drives him crazy.

And Kurt knows it; he’s been bolder than usual, bringing this _thing _between them to new heights. The thing is, Kurt’s half his size. Dave could easily stop him, hurt him. If he wanted to. Kurt knows that too, just as well as he knows that he’s got Dave wrapped around his little finger.

Dave’s not the only one; he’s seen Kurt hanging out with that preppy asshole from the private school. More accurately, he’s seen Preppy following Kurt around like a horny, lovesick puppy.

“Are you sleeping with him?”

“Who?”

“That pretty boy you were with.”

Kurt chuckles. “Are you jealous?” His gaze drags over Dave, making his skin prickle. Kurt knows how to cut into him with a look, remind him that he’s big and clumsy and not worth anymore than what Kurt will give him. “Blaine is just a friend. He’s handsome though, isn’t it?” Kurt runs his nails down Dave’s bare chest. “And I think he likes me. Maybe I’ll let him this weekend.”

Kurt’s hand wraps around him, too loosely, not giving him enough, and Dave grunts in frustration.

“Beg.”

Dave closes his eyes. He knows Kurt won’t let him come, just as much as he knows he’s going to try anyway. “Please.” It’s raspy and so quiet he can barely hear himself.

“Please what?”

“Let me come. Please, Kurt, I’ll do anything, just let me—”

They don’t even talk about blackmail anymore.

…

Dave doesn’t wake up until late Sunday morning. He’d been awake most of the night, wondering what Kurt was doing. _Who _Kurt was doing.

The thought of him with another boy makes Dave want to throw up. He wonders if it was the same for them. Probably not; Preppy doesn’t seem like the type for Kurt’s games. Their sex was probably all soft and sweet, making love to their fucking faggy glee club playlist.

Kurt probably just had to flutter his eyelashes and Preppy would be begging to be allowed to touch him. Dave almost felt bad. Kurt's cold and bitchy and manipulative, and no one deserves that. Then again, his boyfriend is a dick.

Dave’s phone vibrates and he slaps at it, instinctively trying to hit snooze before he realises it’s a text. The message is from an unsaved contact but he knows the number off by heart.

_I’m coming over. Be there in five_.

Dave lets Kurt in and takes him straight to his bedroom, locking the door behind them.

Kurt doesn’t comment on his surroundings, just pushes Dave onto the bed and starts working on undoing his pants.

“What are you doing? My mom is downstairs—”

“You’ll have to be quiet then.” Kurt pulls Dave’s dick out of his underwear and starts jacking him off.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Why are you here now?”

“Stop asking so many questions.” Kurt’s voice wobbles and Dave takes a closer look at him. Kurt’s nose is red, his eyes noticeably puffy, even under the makeup he’s used. He’s been _crying_.

A smile spreads across Dave’s face. “Things didn’t go so well with your _boyfriend_, then?”

“Shut up,” Kurt snaps. He gets off the bed and methodically strips his clothes off, folding them neatly.

Dave has never seen Kurt naked. He’s pale and soft looking, edges still rounded by puppy fat. Dave wants to be disappointed by the absence of tits and curves, but this boy’s body and even the dick still soft between his legs is hot in a way Dave’s never let himself think about before.

Dave slowly takes his own clothes off as Kurt sets a bottle of lube on the bed. The implications make Dave’s stomach tighten, his breath catching in his throat. He tosses his clothes on the floor; Kurt’s gaze trailing over his naked body feels like a brand.

Kurt tests the door handle, making sure it’s locked, before rejoining Dave on the bed. He grabs the lube and flicks the cap open, squeezing some into his palm.

“You’ll need this.” Kurt slicks David’s dick with the lube. “You’re probably going to be too big, but I’ll try.”

“Are you going to—”

Kurt straddles him, letting Dave’s erection rub against his ass.

“Put it in,” he says evenly. “You know how to do that, don’t you?”

Dave’s hand is shaking as he wraps it around his dick. He lines himself up with Kurt’s asshole—and fuck, he’s wet and open, he’s already _fingered_ himself before coming over—and pushes in. Fuck. He’s tight and hot, squeezing around Dave’s dick, and Dave is suddenly certain that he isn’t going to fit. Kurt may not be short but he’s small, all slim hips and shoulders, and Dave is very much the opposite. His thick cock looks as if it will split Kurt open as he works it inside himself.

Kurt’s icy façade cracks for a moment as he takes the rest. He’s whimpering, eyes squeezed shut. It looks like it hurts.

“Are you okay?”

“Like you care.” Kurt opens his eyes, still blinking away tears.

“I care that I can’t fuck you if you’re sore.” Dave wraps his hand around Kurt’s dick. He’s not even hard, but a few firm, slow strokes have him well on his way.

Kurt catches Dave’s wrist, too late for it to be convincing. “Don’t touch me,” he snaps. He braces himself with his hand on Dave’s chest as he starts to move.

Dave lets go of Kurt and twists his fingers in the sheets instead. He thinks about baseball, Coach Sylvester naked, the humiliation if anyone found about this. Anything to distract from the feeling of Kurt riding him, so slick and tight around his dick. Kurt’s started jerking himself off, one hand on his pretty little cock, the other teasing his nipples. His eyes are closed, as if he can’t bear to even look at Dave while he uses him to get off. He’s probably trying not to think about, trying to pretend he’s riding a dildo or—

“_Blaine_,” Kurt sighs.

Acid burns Dave’s throat, rage and jealousy clawing at his insides. He knows that’s what this is to Kurt, just a way to forget about his pathetic gay broken heart, but hearing it hurts.

He wraps big hands around Kurt’s hips, holding him still, and fucks up into him, hard. Kurt squeaks and his eyes fly open. He opens his mouth to say something, some protest, but Dave gives him another hard thrust and all he can do is gasp.

“Fuck,” Kurt whimpers. “You are jealous, aren’t you? You’re jealous of Blaine, because I’d let him do whatever he wanted to me—”

“But he doesn’t want you, does he?”

Pain bursts through the side of Dave’s face. Kurt’s slapped him.

Kurt’s breathing hard, his cheeks pink and eyes bright, excited. He shifts his hips, fucking himself on Dave’s dick with tiny movements. Dave should have known. He drops his hands from Kurt’s hips. There’s no point trying to take over. He lies still, head tilted back on the pillow, as Kurt moves on top of him. It’s barely another thirty seconds before Kurt mewls, pink lips parted. He clenches around Dave’s dick, his whole body reacting as he comes in stripes over Dave’s stomach.

It takes a while for Kurt’s thighs to stop quivering and for him to collapse forward onto Dave’s chest, planting a kiss right where Dave knows he has to be red from the slap.

He doesn’t make any effort to touch Dave, or let Dave fuck him any more.

“Kurt, I’m _close_—”

“You’re not coming inside me.” Kurt gets off him then, making Dave groan as his cock slips out. “Go on, then.”

Dave wraps a hand around his dick. He’s sticky with lube, and it’s a little gross knowing he’s just been in Kurt’s ass, but he jerks off anyway. Kurt watches him closely, then leans over and swipes a fingertip through the mess on Dave’s stomach. He holds his fingers to Dave’s lips, and Dave willingly opens his mouth, letting Kurt feed him his come. His stomach twists as the reality of what he’s doing sets in. He’s just had _gay sex_, and now he’s licking up another guy’s come and jacking off over it, as if he’s a fairy girly boy _fag _just like Hummel.

Dave closes his eyes. He can feel his stomach twisting, heat pooling, and he pushes into his hand and—

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober means way less editing than I usually do (even though I'm taking it easy and only doing every second day) so consider this subject to future rewrites. In other words, feedback would be amazing


End file.
